The Light of Life
by clockworkandsteam
Summary: In this post-apocalyptic time, Arthur's life is incredibly mundane until his eye catches something (or better yet, someone).


Arthur walked through the small market with his burlap satchel hanging off of his shoulder and grumbled upon seeing the outdated and rotten fruit. You'd think since it'd been months since the antidote for that ridiculous 'zombie apocalypse' had been released that they could get back to proper agriculture. But no. There was still rotten food, absolutely deplorable if you asked him.

Oh, and yes, you heard correctly. Zombie apocalypse, unrealistic and quite terrifying as it was, it had happened. Scientists had been finding ways to resurrect the dead like some kind of goddamn necromancers and messing with the laws of nature and suddenly, they were successful. It was incredibly controversial as one would expect at this sort of revelation, but somehow it had gotten out of hand quickly (how surprising). People tried doing the same, finding a way to bring back loved ones. They didn't think that it'd come back to bite them in the ass, but it did. Soon enough, people were up in arms about the amount of walking dead, they were so incredibly decayed and disgusting and people were bothered by it. Arthur really couldn't fathom how people thought that their dead friends and family would be just as functional as they were in life. Had they ever heard of something called decay? Obviously not.

But nevertheless this didn't stop the huge amount of dead people walking the streets, they were slow and all but for some reason they killed anyone. No one knows why, probably some pent up anger about being buried six feet into the ground. Or perhaps, there was a heaven (Arthur doubted this heavily) and the living people savagely took that paradise away from them. Whatever it was it proved incredibly dangerous for anyone who came into contact. These soulless beings walked the earth for a few years before an antidote had come up, a way to keep the dead, well, dead. Some sort of drug (administered through the air), Arthur didn't know what kind, but it had worked and that's all that mattered. After the antidote people had inhabited towns and made refuge out of them as a way to protect one another as a community and Arthur was inside one of the main ones in the UK. Thank God for that.

Anyway, back to reality. Arthur was pissed about fruit. He stared at it for a bit until the vendor at the stand said something along the lines of, "Whatcha starin' at, buddy?" Arthur simply glared at him and walked to the next stand. The floor was made of concrete and positively dirty and dusty, Arthur was glad he didn't have allergies to dust. He'd probably sneeze himself to death if he did. Arthur shuffled over to the Hardtack vendor and gave her a few pounds in exchange for few things of it (he had no idea if you bought a piece of hardtack or slice, it was just weird). He placed it in his bag along with a few bottles of water and a can of soup.

He shuffled out of the dusty market into the dreary streets, it was raining today. How lovely. Exactly what he wanted on his long walk to his house. He trudged his way down the streets, shielding his head from the downpour the entire way. At least it smelled nice, he always did love the smell of rain.

He found himself at his door and turned the knob almost immediately, shoving himself inside. Arthur dropped his satchel on the nearby table and collapsed onto the couch. Staring up at the ceiling he realized how positively empty it was anymore. His entire house had such a mundane feel to it. It was so empty. Arthur guessed the reason for that was because it mirrored how he felt internally. Feeling his eyes start to water, he covered his face with his hands and let out a shuddering sigh. He'd never been the same since Alfred had gone, after that, it was like there was no light in his life. There was no one to go home to anymore, to love, it was so dreary.

Nevermind that now, Arthur had to suck it up and at least make it through the dull and tedious afternoon, just like every other day. Well, it didn't really help when he turned his head to the side and saw the small picture frame with the snapshot of Alfred and him smiling together. It was resting on the coffee table. He really needed to get rid of that goddamn thing, it always made him feel worse. The problem was was that he couldn't find it in himself to throw it away.

He sat up and rubbed his temples. No one ever told you how much it hurt to lose someone you loved so dearly. His chest ached at even the mention of Alfred, everything reminded him of the man. They'd been separated when they were running together, trying to escape and Arthur could never forgive himself for losing track of the other. He knew it was all his fault for what had happened. It'd taken him a couple of months to accept the fact that he was dead, he knew there was no way for Alfred to survive such a large amount of the undead. He didn't want to believe it, of course, but how could he not? When you haven't seen your lover in so long it all starts to get harder, the longer you hold out hope. It all starts to wear you down. Arthur felt tears roll down his cheeks at the very thought of it all.

It was his fault, he knew it. If he had just taken Alfred's hand or made sure they were still beside one another, perhaps everything would be different. Arthur let his hands drop down to his sides and reluctantly got up to walk to his room. He curled up into his blankets and let himself plunge into thoughts of self-loathing and he cried all the while. Maybe the reason he was so closed off was because of bottling up his emotions, but who's to say?

The Englishman was interrupted when he heard a loud knock on his front door. It was probably Francis. Figuring he had to make himself look slightly presentable, he looked at his reflection in the broken mirror and wiped away the remaining tears. Besides that there was nothing he could really do to make it look like he was fine. Arthur sighed and shuffled to the door, opening it a crack (to make sure it was someone he knew, of course) and opened it wider upon seeing that it was indeed, Francis. "Hello, mon ami. How are you today?"

Arthur sighed, "The usual, you damn frog."

Donning a sympathetic look, Francis smiled, "You can always talk to me."

"As if," He spat out, "What in the hell do you want?"

"I was wondering if I could come in, you mentioned something about tea a long time ago."

"Oh yes, I remember now," He said. "Come in," Arthur gestured.

Francis walked inside and sat himself down onto the couch gracefully. He was so dramatic, Arthur was never sure how he survived. The man probably had some sort of serial killer side for all he knew. Whatever.

Arthur went to his kitchen to put some water on the boil, "How've you been?"

A hum. "Not too bad, wish we had a better market."

With a laugh, Arthur said, "I second that, it's so god awful."

"I wonder when they'll produce proper food, probably a long time. What tea are you making?"

"Ah, I'm making us some oolong, it seems like a proper selection for today."

"I couldn't agree more. Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" Arthur said as he sat on one of the counters in the kitchen, waiting for the incessant whistling of the kettle.

"More people have arrived."

"Is that right? I'm glad they're finding a place to live."

"Yes, I hope they like it here."

"It's better than dying out in an empty wasteland."

"True," Francis smiled.

At that moment the kettle began screaming, prompting Arthur to pull it off the heat of the stove and pour its contents into two cups. The steam drifted into the air and Arthur brought the delicate cups to the couch and sat beside Francis. He handed one to the Frenchman and let out a sigh as he looked down into the liquid, "Quite dreary today, is it not?"

Francis took a sip, "Very much so."

The two men sat in a long and comfortable silence before there was another knock on the door. Arthur begrudgingly got up, setting his cup down on the table. Striding to the front door, he opened it wide without even thinking about it. "Oh, hello, Liz."

"Hello, Arthur!" She smiled brightly.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, well, I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. It is Monday you know!"

"Dear, God. I completely forgot."

Every Monday Liz usually stops by to see Arthur and they have chats. Just a part of their regular routine as friends. "Do come in," he said.

Elizabeta stepped inside cheerily and upon seeing Francis she said, "Oh I didn't realize you two were having tea today, I can come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense, I'll get you a cup as well."

She nodded with a smile and Arthur felt his heart seize. Everything. No matter what or who it was, everything always reminded him of Alfred. He looked down at the floor quickly and went to got get Liz a cup. After doing so he sat across from the two and tried to strike up a conversation, "What do you two plan on doing tomorrow?"

"I was going to stay home tomorrow, maybe work on that drawing I was doing," She said.

Francis grinned, "You are such a fantastic artist, Elizabeta. I was going to greet the newcomers, make them feel welcome."

"I'm sure they'll all drop dead because of your concentrated amount of French," Arthur said smugly.

"Ah, at least the French are not ugly like the English."

A cup was politely set down before the Englishman was on his feet looking irate. "You take that back, you prat," he said through gritted teeth.

"Why would I," Francis began, "I only speak the truth."

Before he could say anything more, Arthur said, "If you want a fight, I'll give you one, you piece of shit!"

Francis placed the cup on the table gently before standing up to meet Arthur's glare. "Be prepared to lose, you bushy-browed idiot."

Arthur was about to strangle him, but was quickly stopped by Liz's overwhelming strength, "Will you two stop! This happens every time! This is why you can't have tea together! It always results in snide comments and then a fight, I swear to God."

Arthur disentangled himself and apologized, Francis quickly did the same and they sat down again. The rest of the evening passed without any problems. The one thing you never wanted to do was cross Liz and they both knew that.

The next day he woke up feeling cold. It was nearing winter, wasn't it? He should start a fire. As soon as he thought this he stayed in his pile of blankets. He wasn't getting up, even if God himself was at the door. Soon enough he finally gave up on this notion and lit a fire in his fireplace with the blanket still wrapped tightly around him.

He let the small three room house heat slowly and before taking his usual bath, Arthur went to get himself some tea. After doing so he drank it slowly, looking out the window. There were indeed a few new faces and he smiled. It was nice having new people around, it was like a breath of fresh air. He probably wouldn't talk to them but he was glad more people were safe after that whole… incident.

Setting down his empty cup, he shuffled to the bathroom and ran the water. He figured he'd go shopping today, get some more supplies and then make a semi-edible lunch and dinner. He took off his pajamas and eased himself into the water, becoming lost in thought.

After a boring breakfast and just a mundane everything, Arthur decided he'd go to the market again around six o'clock. He supposed it was better than sitting by himself in his house all day.

As six o'clock hit Arthur grabbed his satchel and walked out the door and down the streets. Well, at least today was nice weather. Not like yesterday. He arrived at the marketplace and went to his favorite vendor, Feliciano Vargas. The man was very nice and sympathetic, but only made Arthur wonder how in God's name he survived their situation. Probably hid somewhere, it was all a conundrum to Arthur.

"Hello, Feliciano," he smiled.

"Hi! How are you today, Arthur?"

"Ah- Same old same old, you know."

The Italian nodded glumly, "Yes." He sighed before he smiled once again, "Is there anything specific you need?"

"In all honesty, I don't know. Anything good will do fine."

"Alright," Feliciano said as he started going through his shelves of wares.

Arthur looked around slowly as the man did his best to find something he'd like. Arthur's eyes suddenly fell upon an incredibly handsome man who was chattering with someone. His heart sped up and he felt himself become a bit sick. This was a bit much, he thought. Actually, it was just plain awful. Why had fate done something so cruel to him? The man reminded him of Alfred and Arthur couldn't restrain himself as he started walking over to the newcomer. It was probably too good to be true. As he got closer he let out a soft, "Alfred?"

This seemed to get the other man's attention as he turned his head to view Arthur. His eyes widened slightly and he said, "Is that you, Arthur?"

The latter stopped in his tracks as his hands flew up to his mouth, looking shocked and confused. Before he knew it, a pair of strong arms pulled him into a tight embrace. "I thought you were dead," Alfred choked out.

"You should talk," Arthur said finally, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck.

Alfred lifted him off the ground and said, "I thought I'd never see you again."

He didn't even bother to respond as Arthur felt tears run down his face. Only this time, they were far happier. "I love you," Arthur sighed.

"I love you too."

Sure, they were in the middle of the market, but they couldn't help that. Right now was a time of supreme happiness and they were both crying. Arthur felt his feet touch the ground and his hands sprang up into Alfred's hair, tangling his fingers almost immediately. They touched foreheads and then he felt Alfred's soft lips touch his- oh how he missed this feeling. Alfred wiped away Arthur's tears with his thumb and kissed him again. "Alfred, would you like to come home with me?"

"Of course," he said softly.

Feliciano didn't even bother to ask Arthur what was happening as the latter walked off with the other man, their fingers entwined. Arthur practically pulled Alfred down the street. The latter suddenly asked, "Where did you go after we were separated?"

Still walking, Arthur replied, "I went to the safe house in London and then I came here because Francis and Liz were coming here. I wanted to go back and look for you though."

"I'm glad you didn't, you probably woulda been hurt."

Arthur let out a sigh, "I wanted to die after I thought you were gone, because I basically let it happen. I couldn't live with myself like that. Alfred," He said, "I'm so sorry."

Alfred stopped walking and yanked Arthur into his arms, "You've got nothin' to be sorry for. I totally understand, and plus, I'm okay!"

Arthur nuzzled his face into the American's neck, "I know… Speaking of which, where did you go?"

"I went to Birmingham," he mumbled.

"So far away, but so close. What brought you to Woodbridge?"

"I wanted a change of scenery I guess, I didn't really expect anything. I'm glad I came here though. God, I missed you."

"I missed you too," Arthur muttered, kissing Alfred again.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from his lover and found that they were a mere 50 feet from his house. Arthur grabbed Alfred's jacket and pulled him through the doorway, shutting the door quickly. That's when Arthur felt his back hit the wall and his lips taken up into a hungry kiss. He gasped and made a grab for Alfred's hair, tugging it slightly. The latter's glasses were askew and Arthur helped by pulling the frames off his face and tucking them into Alfred's coat pocket.

The Englishman sucked on Alfred's tongue all the while, earning him a slight whimper in turn. A pair of hands found their way underneath his shirt, teasing his skin. They broke apart briefly, gasping for air. In between breaths, Alfred murmured, "I couldn't love anyone but you, I could never look at another man without thinking about how much I loved you."

Arthur cupped his lover's face, "I felt the same way, my dear."

Their lips crashed together once again and Arthur felt a warm heat course through his body. Feeling himself being lifted slightly, he wrapped his legs around Alfred's waist and gasped as the other man started trailing kisses down his jawline and neck. He tugged at Alfred's hair again and let out a small gasp as the latter nipped at the junction where his neck and shoulders met. A tongue moved over the small bite and then small kisses were being placed on his clavicle.

Arthur thanked God he wore his standard V-neck and jacket most days, especially today. Alfred ground his hips into his lover's and elicited a moan from both of them, Arthur couldn't take it anymore as he pulled Alfred's head back and started kissing him intensely. Alfred tasted like chocolate, just like he always had and Arthur couldn't get enough of it. "Alfred," he panted.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Alfred mumbled, pressing small kisses to his nose and cheeks.

"My bedroom is the room down the hall and to the right."

Alfred nodded and carried Arthur to where he told him to go, opening the door quickly. Arthur released his hold on his boyfriend, shutting the door and moving to lay on the bed with Alfred following after him.

Arthur woke up groggily, expecting the day to be a bit mundane as was the usual routine. That was until he realized the pair of arms wrapped around him, holding him close. He turned around and smiled, realizing he had Alfred back. The light of his life was shining again and it constricted Arthur's lungs, prickling his eyes with tears. Carding his fingers through his lover's hair, he sighed happily. He watched as his partner's eyes opened slowly and then a smile appear on his face, "Good morning, sweetheart," Alfred said quietly.

The latter seemed to be crying as well, this was emphasized as a tear ran down the side of his face. "Good morning, my love," Arthur mumbled, moving in to kiss him.

Alfred accepted it graciously and smiled. Today seemed like it was going to be a fantastic day, after all.

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><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

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><p>This is based off a prompt on tumblr and here is that said prompt: post99420544932/

Have a rad day!


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